Dagan stilled at those terse words, so completely unexpected coming from Mammon’s mouth. Love? His father didn’t even begin to understand the concept.
“That’s because you’ve never given it,” he said. That was the most important thing Dagan had learned from his brothers. “It would have been as simple as that, Dad. As simple as that.”
Mammon’s eyes went wide with shock. Whether from Dagan’s words or his inadvertent use of the word “dad,” he’d never know, because a moment later, Mammon tightened his grip on the dagger he held to Dagan’s neck and shoved inward with all his might.
Oh, shit.
Using his last bit of strength, Dagan stopped Mammon’s dagger before it could dig too deeply. It was only when he felt his own weapon connect that he realized his father had simultaneously loosened his grip on Dagan’s other wrist.
Letting out a startled grunt, Dagan turned his gaze to the dagger in his hand. Too late to do anything other than watch as the sharp instrument sliced almost entirely through Mammon’s neck.
Whuh…
Wide-eyed, he locked eyes with his father. Absorbed the expression on Mammon’s face. It was almost…accepting. Resigned-looking.
“Why?” he managed to choke out.
Because there was no mistaking it. Mammon had given up control of the dagger. Had let this happen.
“Why?” he repeated again.
Mammon opened his mouth, but nothing came out other than a garbled stream of blood. A moment later, his father’s body collapsed to the ground, and his head lobbed to the side in an oozing ribbon of gore.
Shock reverberated throughout Dagan’s body as he gazed down at his father. His mind refused to process what he knew to be true. That his father—the bane of his existence, the man he hated most in the world—was dead. And that he’d so much as allowed Dagan to kill him.
“Dagan!”
Keegan’s alarmed cry cut through Dagan’s stupor, and he looked up just in time to see one of Belpheg’s incubi headed toward him. Something that looked like a lightning rod was aimed straight at his heart.
Lifting the dagger still hanging limply from his hand, Dagan let out an instinctive battle cry and leaped for the man.
He’d survived Mammon.
Nothing was going to stop him now.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Amara raced to Lina’s side as she engaged the incubus who’d come to a stop in front of her. He took one look at her and sneered, clearly dubious of her fighting ability.
Adopting her very best angelic smile, Lina taunted him. “Wanna play?”
Before he could respond, Amara slapped her hands on the demon’s chest, activating her ability to burn. The demon yelled in pain, his eyes going wide.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Lina jumped him and sliced one of her daggers across his neck, detaching his head from his body. It rolled harmlessly to the side. His headless corpse dropped to the ground, depositing her deftly onto her feet.
Gasping for air, she surveyed the scene around her. Much to her surprise, the field was starting to look free of their enemies. Solara and the other succubi stood beside piles of disassembled corpses. Since they were no longer continuing to reform, Lina guessed Brynn had figured out Belpheg had turned the zombies against them and used her magic to deactivate them.
The others seemed to have taken most of the incubi down. Keegan and Ronin stood back-to-back, fighting off two of them, while Taeg remained in air form to keep the incubi from hitting either of his brothers with their magical bolts of energy or whatever other powers they might have.
Where’s Dagan?
The panic she’d felt since the moment she saw Dagan and his father locked in battle receded when she noticed him dispatching the third and final incubus. At his feet was Mammon’s decapitated body.
What?
“Oh my fucking gods. He did it!”
Dagan had actually defeated his father, the bastard who’d made all their lives a living hell. Part of her couldn’t even believe it!
Amara followed her gaze, and a bubble of shocked laughter escaped her lips. It only lasted for a moment, though, before she tapped Lina on the shoulder. “Belpheg!”
Lina whirled to see the imposing figure of the dark fae standing in front of Rage and the incubus who’d stepped out of the circle.
Both men knelt on the ground, their wrists manacled into the dirt with what appeared to be coils of lightning. Belpheg trailed lazy circles with his fingers, which resulted in strips of flesh being flayed from both the men’s faces and bodies. From the way they screamed and writhed, it must be pure agony. All the more because they wouldn’t die from it. No, they’d simply suffer in endless torment until he decided to end their misery by beheading them.